


Intoxiciation

by Zenith_Lux



Series: Through the Ashes [15]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dante gets everyone drunk just because he can, Drunkeness, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Vergil's a lightweight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith_Lux/pseuds/Zenith_Lux
Summary: In which Dante tricks Vergil into getting drunk, and somebody has to pay for it.
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Through the Ashes [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477619
Kudos: 13





	Intoxiciation

**Author's Note:**

> The theme was "Drinking". So, of course, I had to take it literally. 
> 
> (A quick note to those who have read this before; yes, it has been reposted as its own story, as I decided to seperate Rekindle into one-shots instead of a collection. So that's why you're seeing it again ^^)
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Vergil was 87% certain that he was horrendously intoxicated. Except there was a multitude of reasons why that _shouldn’t_ be possible. His demon form alone should have absorbed any alcohol he did drink, especially with his extended stay in the underworld. He was pretty certain even his initial demon form could have accomplished that much, but drinking had been (and still was) foolish for a man who needed to be ready for anything. 

And that’s where the second conundrum lay: Vergil hadn’t drunk anything but mildly annoying, carbonated water and about two cups of juice that night. Being dragged on a “club run” by Dante and the rest of the crew (kids aside) was already painful enough. He’d had to borrow a pair of Shira’s “human world headphones” just to keep his overly-sensitive hearing from breaking. 

But Ashira, who had been sharing drinks with him and equally uncomfortable with the whole idea, was undeniably drunk. Or, as Dante had said at least four times in the last hour, “completely wasted.”

Vergil thought he should have strangled his brother over that.

If he weren’t out of his mind, Vergil probably would have dragged her back to Devil May Cry, locked his brother out, and kept her away from prying eyes until she felt better. And, since he was _always_ a gentleman to his wife, unless she asked otherwise (he quickly shook his head at that thought. _Not the time_ ), he’d coax her into a bath and wait for her demon half to fix what he assumed was alcohol poisoning by now and move on.

Instead, he was watching her as she wandered around the floor with the other women with a new drink in hand every few minutes. She hadn’t stumbled (yet), but she _had_ started giggling at almost everything. She also periodically started dancing, to which the other women and almost the entire establishment would join in within seconds. Occasionally, sparks of golden flame would slip between her and the others, but it was so slight that Vergil was certain no one else saw it. That was probably why they all had so much energy.

Vergil thought he should be more annoyed. 

Not because she was doing anything wrong; far from it. They’d gotten thrown out of the last bar because she had quite literally tossed a very drunk and handsy person into one of the walls. The man hadn’t suffered more than a bruised ego, but it wasn’t exactly good for business. Now, between Trish, who he presumed was _not at all_ drunk given her demeanor, and Ashira’s ever-increasing and uncontrolled “Demon Queen Dominance” driving humans away, no one had come close since. 

But Vergil’s demon half was very, _very_ possessive. Simply the thought of anyone coveting _his_ mate was usually enough to trigger it. He knew how to control his other half, but that didn’t stop the instincts from bothering him from time to time. And since he clearly wasn’t in his right mind, this all should have ended a while ago.

Instead, he just watched, oddly amused and somehow resisting the unusual urge to _join_ her. 

Now, he was 94% certain he was well and truly intoxicated. And 99% percent certain that it had something to do with Dante, who had been grinning like an idiot while the rest of his family had lost their minds.

“Go on, Kiddo,” Dante said in that unmistakable drawl of a drunk man. As V, he’d heard it more often than he cared to. Dante had occasionally gotten drunk off of random, putrid substance Dante had called “demonic liquor” in the Underworld. And while knowing Dante was also drunk gave Vergil some comfort, it didn’t improve his mood. 

Unfortunately, when he tried to voice his discontent, the pathway from his brain to tongue would short-circuit, and nothing close to words came out. When Nero called him out for “talking like an idiot” despite being drunker than the Sparda Twins combined, Vergil resorted to glaring at his brother instead. But, infuriatingly, the red-devil hadn’t looked at him since Verigl realized something was up. 

That would be admitting his guilt.

“I’m not going down there,” Nero sputtered. Considering how much his head was swaying, Vergil was shocked he’d managed to say anything at all. At some point over the night, Nero’s usually clear eyes had clouded over. At the moment, he was staring straight past Vergil, his eyelids fluttering from time to time with no real purpose. Vergil might have found it amusing if he didn't feel like the world was going to slip out from under him.

“What have you done?” He hissed in Dante’s general direction, blinking to remove the two other Dantes that had appeared. 

“Loosened y’all up,” Dante said with a lazy grin as he leaned a bit too far back in his chair. Both he and it hit the floor with a thud, but not a single person spared him a glance. Dante simply shot his thumb into the air with a loud and grating laugh. Considering how loud the music was, it was almost impressive how irritating his brother’s voice was. “You two should hurry,” He said as he rolled out of his seat before bouncing to his feet. Regretfully, that was one thing Dante had on all of them; no matter how drunk he got, he could very easily move like he wasn’t. “The night’s almost over.” Father and son stared as Dante sauntered away, hopped over a railing, and swept Lucia into his arms as he snapped a rose into existence.,

Nero groaned as his head hit the table. “How the _fuck_ did he talk us into this?” Vergil grunted, and Nero groaned again. “You said it, Pops.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

Vergil’s eyes snapped to the floor as Ashira’s voice echoed above the shift in music. Everyone had backed away now, leaving a massive, almost empty circle in the center where the lights were the brightest. On one side, was Dante with his arm wrapped around a blushing (and also drunk… Vergil was sensing a pattern) Lucia. Opposite of him was Ashira, staring down her brother-in-law with the confidence of both a Queen and a crazy drunkard all in one. 

Dante’s grin widened. “It’s been quite a while since we’ve had a dance-off, Shy.”

Her chin rose and her eyes narrowed. “I’d hate to embarrass you in front of Lucia.”

“That’s impossible,” Dante said, his gaze turning almost predatory.

Vergil’s demon growled seconds before he lurched to his feet. Except the world spun a bit too fast and he tumbled right into the railing. A curse almost slipped out, but he wasn’t quite drunk enough for that. He was, however, drunk enough to storm down the stairs and reach for Ashira’s arm. “We’re leaving,” He said, flinching as his own voice gave him a headache. 

Ashira’s eyes shimmered with delight. “Are you here to help?”

Vergil blinked for way too long before his brain connected the dots. “What?” He said, surprised to find that it was Ashira who had grabbed his hand, and _not_ the other way around. “I am not…”

“We,” She started, as her voice shifted to something between playful and dangerous. “Did not spend a decade practicing hundreds of routines to back down from a dance battle with your brother. I won’t allow it.” 

Vergil stared at her. A second later, she somehow ended up with her back to his chest, his arms somewhere at her waist, and him wondering why there were so many gaps in his short-term memory. “Bring it on,” she hissed as she reached up to brush her fingers along Vergil’s neck. His muscles seized as that alone knocked the air out of his lungs. 

_Fuck._

He could feel Ashira’s grin on his very soul. _“I heard that Saina.”_

He growled, irritated, but turned all of his fury on Dante instead. “You will pay for this, brother.”

Dante’s laugh turned into a cackle. Vergil heard the murmurs of the crowd around them as crackles of red and blue energy flickered off the ceiling. Vergil’s fingers twitched as he shifted them back toward Yamato’s hilt. Dante’s free hand rose, and Vergil could imagine the Devil Sword appearing. The music shifted to something deep and pulsing, like a million heartbeats under his heels. 

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, Vergil knew how stupid of a metaphor that was. 

And just as the two were about to charge at each other, a voice stopped them. “Hey, assholes!” Nero shouted from above. Vergil glanced up in time to see his son barely manage to stop himself from tipping over. Kyrie, who Vergil was certain wasn’t actually drunk, had wandered to her husband’s side in the chaos. “Go flex your egos somewhere else before I have to beat them out of you.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. He heard Dante huff in unusual irritation. It was Ashira’s giggle that brought him back to reality. “You guys are funny.” Her head rolled back against his chest and her eyes drifted closed. “Absolutely hilarious.” 

Whether it was her words, Nero’s glare, or Vergil’s drunkenness, the tension in the air dissipated. Dante laughed again, but it was much more subdued than before. “Well then,” He said as she spun around, almost knocking Lucia off her feet as he threw his hands into the air. “Drinks for everyone!”

The crowd cheered. 

Vergil’s world spun again.

He stifled a groan into Ashira’s shoulder. When her lips brushed his cheek, he gave up trying to figure out how she had turned so quickly without him falling over or noticing. _“What a state you’re in,”_ She whispered as her hands drifted subtly under his coat and brushed along the edges of his vest. Prickles of soothing fire followed her fingers, but it wasn’t enough to pull him back. He tried to look at her, but the muscles in his neck stubbornly refused to work. “ _Why would you ever drink anything your brother hands you on a night like this?”_

Vergil blinked, but all he saw were stars. _“You’re…”_ The word caught in his mouth, and he scowled into her neck. He could barely speak English, let alone something demonic. 

_“I think it's time we head home,”_ She said. _“Before you do something… silly.”_

“Vergie!” Ashira froze as Dante’s sing-songy voice dragged Vergil back to some semblance of consciousness. “Giving up already? Don’t tell me my older brother is a lightweight.”

_“Vergil…”_

He pushed himself upright, using Ashira’s shoulders as leverage until he could glare at his brother without wondering where he was. “Watch your tongue.” He said, but it came out all wrong. 

“At least mine’s working.” 

“It won’t be once I tear it out of your skull.”

“Dante snorted as he yanked a second bottle of something from the wall before tossing a generous amount of bills on the table. “Whatcha say then?” Dante said as he sauntered in Vergil’s direction and shook the bottle. “Half and half?” He took a quick drink, before pulling the bottle away with a content sigh and holding it back out to Vergil. 

“Seriously?” Nero shouted as he charged his way between them and snatched the bottle from his Uncle’s hand. The women aside from Ashira had all congregated by the stairs. Kyrie was tending to a near passed out Nico, Lady was muttering something to Lucia, both leaning uncomfortably against the walls. Trish stood at the top, arms crossed. “You think I can’t handle this stupid bet of yours?”

“Not this time, kiddo,” Dante said with a shrug. He reached for the bottle, but Nero pulled it away. 

“Fuck you,” Nero hissed as he started to take a drink.

Vergil yanked the bottle from Nero’s hand before he could, ignoring the very quiet _“Vergil no,”_ that echoed somewhere in his head. “I will not be outdone by the likes of you, little brother,” He hissed, somehow, though he wasn’t certain if that was what actually came out. Regardless, he tipped the bottle back, took a drink...

… And woke up in his bed at Devil May Cry. 

For a long moment, Vergil stared at the ceiling. A part of him thought that maybe, _just maybe,_ the entire debacle had been a dream. But his head was throbbing. His ears still pulsed with the echoes of music that he never wanted to hear again. His muscles ached, and he realized that he hadn’t felt this miserable in decades. 

He was going to kill his brother… as soon as he could stand up.

A cool cloth on his forehead pulled him out of his thoughts. “It’s your own fault,” Ashira said as she tossed the rag away and drew small, soothing circles of flames along his temple, easing his headache. “I love you to pieces, Saina, but that was a foolish choice.”

He grunted, not quite committing to anything. “What happened?”

Her eyebrows shot up and her lips twitched in amusement. “Before or after you drank an entire bottle of vodka?”

Vergil winced as he forced himself upright. His arms shook beneath him, and Ashira had to put pillows up behind him to keep him there, but he managed it all the same. “After,” he said with a tired sigh of resignation. 

Her memories flooded into him, but his mind struggled to make sense of it all. A second later, they retreated. “Sorry,” She said. “Force of habit.” She took his hand as if she were about to tell him he was on his deathbed. There was a mix of pity and amusement in her expression, but Vergil wasn’t sure which one was more prominent. “Nero got upset that you stole the bottle, and took another one off the wall. Once he drank that, you got upset that he would _dare_ challenge _you_ while _you_ were challenging _Dante_ .” The emphasis on the various names was not lost on him. “Which, of course, convinced _Dante_ that he needed to trump _you both_. One thing led to another and…”

He heard a loud series of swears from another room, followed by a very loud thump and a sigh from Lucia. Ashira shook her head. “You drank the poor owner dry,” She said. “Nero passed out first, being more human and all.”

Vergil jerked forward in alarm, but that only worsened his headache. Ashira gently pushed him back against the pillows and resumed her ministrations. “Don’t worry, I took care of him and Nico first,” She said. “They’ve probably got a migraine, but they’ll live, assuming Kyrie doesn’t kill them herself. Dante’s natural recovery is a bit better, so I left him to suffer for his sins.” 

Vergil snorted and immediately winced. At least the pain was starting to go away. Kind of. Sort of. “Don’t let me fall for that ever again,” He groaned as he let his eyes close for a few seconds.

Ashira chuckled as her hand tugged gently on the zipper of his vest, only pulling it down after his silent permission. “You’re much, much heavier when you’re drunk,” She said as her fingers massaged the muscles of his chest. “At least you’re enough of a gentleman to demand to carry _me_ home instead. Made this all a little more convenient.”

“You drank what I did,” He said. She raised an eyebrow, and he glared at her with a quick clarification, “Before the Vodka.”

“I did, yes,” She said as she pushed his vest off his shoulders. “It seems that Phoenix fire serves to nullify the effects of alcohol. Go figure.”

Vergil stared at her. “That’s why you kept giving them fire.”

“I _tried_ to get some to you when Dante decided he could dance better than me, but I underestimated how drunk you already were.” She shook her head with a mischievous grin. When she spoke again, it was her playful Phoenix language that came out. _“I never realized you were such a lightweight, Saina.”_ She leaned in and brushed her lips teasingly against his neck _“Though I quite like drunken, cuddly Vergil. All those promises...”_ She chuckled and nipped at his tender skin. eliciting a shiver he wasn’t prepared for. _“If you’re lucky, I might let you keep them.”_

He growled at her to try and hide the sudden heat in his cheeks, but there was no malice behind it. None of his memories of these ‘promises’ returned, but he was certain she would share them if he asked. At the moment, he wasn’t ready to see it. 

Though if this did come back to bite him, he had a feeling he wouldn’t mind it. 

Ashira laughed and kissed him before sitting back in her chair. “I’ll be more prepared next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” He grunted. “I can promise you that.”

“It could be worse,” Ashira said. “You could be Dante.”

“TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!?”

Somewhere below them, Lucia huffed. “That’s what happens when you’re a moron, my dear.”

Ashira’s eyes drifted to the door in amusement as Dante’s following groan rattled all of Devil May Cry. “I took care of whatever you drank,” She said as she returned her attention to him. “But it seems your brother kept grabbing the more expensive bottles.” She grinned. _“After all, how could he ignore the recommendations of his “totally wasted” sister-in-law.”_

That time, Vergil’s laughter didn’t hurt in the slightest. 

**Author's Note:**

> And you can find a few of those promises [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296892) ^^


End file.
